[ Derek's House, Star City ]
Thanking her future sister-in-law Laurel for the heads-up, Thea hurried to track down the former employee, Derek, using the address listed in the case file. She didn't even bring Felicity along. For all her joking and sarcasm, Felicity had a strong sense of justice. Involving her might just complicate things.
After navigating a maze of side streets and faded signs, Thea finally reached Derek's house. It was modest and worn, nestled among a cluster of equally humble homes.
To her surprise, she arrived to find a crowd gathered outside. A group of heavily tattooed men stood postured in front of the entrance, facing off against several defiant residents. At their head was a slick young man in a suit, all fake smiles and oily charm.
"Mr. Derek, if you can't pay the mortgage on time, we'll have no choice but to take... stronger action," the man said with a smirk. "I'm sure you don't want your kids to see that."
Inside the doorway, Derek and several neighbors had formed a quiet but firm human barrier, doing their best to block the intruders. Some residents on the sidelines voiced their support.
"We're with you, Derek!" "Stay strong—we'll find work."
The debt collector chuckled condescendingly and jabbed a finger in Derek's direction. "Three more days. Then Mr. Frank Portinall gets involved. And you know he's not a man you want to disappoint."
He cast a menacing glance around. A few neighbors who met his eyes quickly looked away. With a snort, he turned on his heel and strutted off, his goons trailing behind.
Thea's eyes narrowed. Things appeared to be escalating beyond expectations. Frank Portinal, publicly known as a successful construction entrepreneur, was, in truth, the hidden hand behind the city's mafia operations. His name carried weight among the Italian families, placing him near the top of the underworld hierarchy.
Thea vaguely recalled a scandal involving him—how he had his daughter's fiancé murdered. In response, the daughter went nearly insane with rage, vowing vengeance against her own father. If memory served her right, that same woman had once been romantically involved with Oliver. What was her name again? It slipped her mind. She only remembered that she was beautiful. Whether that connection was real or tabloid fiction, Thea wasn't sure, but it was definitely something to have Felicity look into later.
As the small crowd around the man began to disperse, Thea stepped forward toward the door, her voice calm and even. "Mr. Derek Leston? Could we speak privately?"
Derek eyed her cautiously. He looked worn out, more worried than angry, but his guard was up. His first instinct seemed to be that she was another debt collector, but upon closer inspection, he realized she wasn't one of them.
"What do you want?" he asked, his voice gruff.
Thea wore a clean-cut blazer today, glasses perched on her nose to add an air of seniority. Skipping any pleasantries, she simply handed him a business card.
"Thea Queen? From Queen Consolidated?" Derek's confusion quickly morphed into suspicion.
"Would you prefer we talk here, or somewhere a little less public?" Thea gestured toward the surroundings. Curious neighbors had begun poking their heads out again, seemingly eager to witness the unfolding drama, their interest crossing all boundaries of age, culture, and nationality.
Derek glanced at the onlookers' faces and felt the pressure mounting. He was well aware of his own situation, and it was clear now that word had spread—people knew he was planning to sue Queen Consolidated. And if the company's eldest daughter had shown up in person, it could only mean she was here to negotiate.
Realizing his own situation and not wanting to publicly negotiate, Derek nodded curtly. "Follow me."
...
[ Nearby Café ]
They ended up at a quiet open-air café a few blocks away. Derek sat down heavily under a shady umbrella. "Alright, Miss Queen. Say what you came to say."
"I've reviewed the company's records. The way the layoffs were handled back then... wasn't right. I apologize." Thea kept her tone even, avoiding any mention of Laurel. Whether he believed her sincerity or not didn't matter—this was the line she had to deliver.
"Queen Consolidated will reassign your job within three days. If you're still interested in working as a foreman, we can arrange that—but it would have to be in another city. As you're likely aware, there are hardly any operational factories left in Star City."
Thea's real goal was to move Derek somewhere he couldn't rally more discontent. Judging by the neighborly support back at his house, he had the kind of quiet charisma that could ignite a labor movement. Better to put him at a comfortable distance—maybe even out of the country.
"Alternatively, if you choose not to return, you'll receive your severance and pension—plus a compensation package from us, as a formal apology. Either way, we'd like to resolve this quickly. Do you have questions?"
Derek lowered his head in thought. Take the compensation and severance or continue working? Naturally, he preferred to keep working—severance was just a few bucks in the grand scheme. And there was compensation on top of it... But accepting the payout meant agreeing to stay silent going forward.
To his credit, the man still had a conscience. He didn't accept immediately, clearly weighing more than just his own fate. At that moment, he was thinking not only of himself but also of the coworkers who had been laid off alongside him. "Miss Queen, may I ask, is this offer directed only at me personally or does it apply to everyone who got laid off?"
Seeing that Derek's attitude had clearly shifted upon hearing there was a chance of resuming work, Thea couldn't help but laugh inwardly at how practical the man really was. His question, however, did trouble her. She might be able to find placements for one or two people on her own, but arranging jobs for 1,500 laid-off workers was far beyond her scope. She would have to go back and discuss it with Moira.
Still, pleasant words were necessary. "It applies to everyone. If Mr. Derek follows the news, he'll hear the official announcement in a few days," she replied with calm assurance.
Derek quickly expressed that he had no more concerns, affirming that the Quinn Group had always treated him well and promising to return to the company with dedication once called back.
Thea gave a small nod in acknowledgment of his loyalty, instructed him to await further updates in the coming days, and then stood to leave the café. Nothing concrete had been done, and neither of them had brought up the lawsuit again. That was enough.
...
[ President's Office, Queen Consolidated HQ, Star City ]
Back at HQ, Thea stood outside President's office. She took a moment to scan the area with her enhanced perception—just in case her mom and Walter were doing something... private. Thankfully, they were just chatting. Boring, but safe.
She knocked, waited, and stepped in. One look at Walter's overly cheerful face told her that while they hadn't been working, they definitely hadn't been crossing any serious lines either.
"Ahem." Thea dropped the courtesy. They were family, after all. She gave a full, unfiltered account of the Derek situation.
When she mentioned that someone was planning to sue the group, she caught a flash of fierceness in Moira's eyes. But when Thea brought up that the number of people involved had reached 1,500, that fierceness wavered, giving way to visible hesitation.
One or two angry ex-employees were manageable. But 1,500? Even with a submachine gun, that would be... inefficient. And these weren't mindless thugs—they were people. They could run, they could talk. If even one of them leaked the story to the press, the fallout would be explosive.
That didn't mean violence was entirely off the table. If the threat were someone like Darkseid or Thanos, the kind that took forty heroes to bring down, then of course extreme measures would be considered. But this wasn't such a case. Here, they had to stick to methods that were, at least on the surface, clean and proper.
Thea had been mulling over this problem the entire way there. Handling the situation smoothly and without bloodshed had become the company's top priority. Derek might have been placated for now, but what if another Derek—or worse, someone more difficult—surfaced tomorrow?
Moira was also in urgent need of political achievements to solidify her standing. The employment of 1,500 individuals wasn't just a simple number—it represented families, networks, and communities. These jobs were interconnected, forming a web of influence that could easily translate into votes from at least half a city block. For someone like Moira, whose political foundation was still relatively shallow, such a boost in public support was incredibly significant.
She might've just found her mother the perfect launchpad.
To Be Continued...
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